The Intelligence Leads to Death
by JaneTheFabulousKiller
Summary: This is a short story from the point of view of a killer. Contains a lot of gore some may find hard to read.


The Intelligence Leads to Death

Darkness. It was all I could see. I could feel restraints on my arms and legs. My head was strapped to what I believe was a chair. This isn't some happy ending story where everyone lives... No, I already know I'm dead. This is simply one thing, my death story.

It started happening again. The visions and hallucinations and the whispers. I had thought they were gone but a few days after my sixteenth birthday they had come back. I couldn't tell my parents. I didn't want to go back to that horrid place that they say is meant to help people like me. So I simply dealt with it.

Going to school with these visions and hallucinations was extremely terrifying and difficult. I was forced to put up with the obnoxious children of high school. Such fools, creating such things as bullying, and classifying each other into groups. They all got what they deserved. It was a quiet and peaceful day when I had finally snapped. I went through months of these horrid visions, finally allowing them to come true. My first victim, I had decided, was a rich, snobby girl in my algebra class. She dressed in such clothes that would show off her body everyday, shaming other girls.

She made me sick. I was almost glad that the voices chose her.

"She's worthless," they would continuously tell me. "She is a disgrace to your kind.".

They would send me visions of what I was supposed to do to her. They whisper in my ear every day, forcing me not to forget. The only hard part was getting her in my custody. I worked on my plan the whole school day. Then, the time to carry out my plan had finally come.

You see, it was quite simple really. Everyone knew that she would do anything for a good fix, so I simply told her I could sell her some for a cheap price. She fell for it of course, being as stupid as she is. So I brought her to the place from my visions, the place that they continuously whisper about.

Then she entered the small enclosed room and looked around, I didn't give her any time to think about what was happening. I clonked her over the head with a baseball bat I had retrieved from one corner of the room. She fell to the floor and I let out a small laugh. It felt good to do that, and the voices were continuously praising me.

I picked her up off the floor, dropping the bat. I placed her on a chair in the middle of the room. I fastened the straps to her limbs, tightly, so she could not escape when she awoke. The voices guided me through the process, giving me instructions on what to do.

She awoke two hours later. I was already prepared, my materials and tools all spread out along a table behind her. She was scared, I could feel it. Her body was trembling, and the voices were going insane. They were screaming at me, begging me to start. I smirked, picking up a chainsaw that was on the floor next to the table. I revved it and she began to squirm, trying desperately to get out. I walked over to the front side of her, so she could see me clearly. She took one look at me, then the chainsaw, and she screamed. I laughed.

"You can scream all you want but nobody can hear you. I made sure of it." I moved forward, bringing the chainsaw close to her leg. She tried to pull her leg away, but she was tied down tightly.

I grinned as I brought the chainsaw inches away from her calf. 'Slowly,' they told me,, 'do it so slowly. Make her suffer and regret the day she was born.' I moved it slowly to her calf. Her face, drenched in tears as she lay there, sobbing.

"Please, let me go!" She screamed at me. I only shook my head no.

Grinning, I pushed the chainsaw slowly into her left calf. She screamed a blood curdling scream. I kept pushing, unaffected by her screams. I stopped when I was halfway through. The tower part of her leg was hanging off, swaying slowly.

I stepped away from the chair, laying the now blood soaked chainsaw to the right of the table. She wasn't screaming anymore. She had probably realized that it took too much energy to scream. I examined my table of tools.

"Hmmm….What should we play with next?" I asked her as I toyed with the tools. She didn't respond to my question.

"Not gonna answer huh?" I had another vision then, my eyes closing to go with it as I had taught myself to do. It was an incredibly gory vision. There were limbs strewn across the floor and blood, splattered across the walls. The vision ended there, bringing me back to reality.

She was still tied to the chair, moaning in pain. I could see the small sway of her lower leg from the side of the chair. I was enjoying this in the sickest way possible. They say its because I am sick in the head, but they are wrong. I am not sick, I am merely more intelligent than them.

They don't understand me, and they never will. Their puny brains could not handle what mine does. The voices guide me well, always there when I am lost. Music often helps too, but not these stupid pop songs nowadays that are rotting people's heads. Metal music has real lyrics, ones that actually mean something to people. They think that this type of music is Satanic because they can't hear past the screaming.

People often thought I was Satanic, but in reality I don't have a religion. Religion is just another stupid way for people to argue and cause wars. I shook my head, sighing.

"Now now where were we?" I said aloud.

I walked back to the chair she was tied to. She looked up aat me, completely terrified. I laughed at her expression. She'd begun to cry again, silently this time.

"Now now dear don't cry." I slid my fingers across her cheeks, wiping away the tears that streaked down them. She flinched away from me. I grimaced.

"It is not a smart idea to try and fight back." I said in a monotone voice.

I stepped away from her chair, glancing down at her swaying lower leg. An uncontrollable smirk crawled onto my face. I pulled my right leg back, winding up for a harsh kick then I swung my foot furiously at the tiny area of still attached limb..

It detached almost instantly, blood spurting onto the floor. She cried out in pain and I looked over to where her lower leg had landed. It was laying in a puddle of blood by the far wall. I laughed loudly as I walked back to the table. "That was a nice kick wasn't it?" I asked her. She didn't reply, but I could hear her cries of pain echoing around the room. I examined my table of torture devices. The voices had left me alone with my thoughts for a while, but they were back now. They told me to pick something that would bring slow pain, and I obeyed. I picked up a screwdriver, walking back to the girl, I didn't let her see the screwdriver though. I thought about where I should strike her this time. She was still losing blood from her missing leg. She would most likely lose consciousness soon. I pulled the screwdriver out, viciously stabbing it into her right hand. It didn't go through all the way the first time, so I pushed it slowly, deeper into her hand. She wasn't silently crying anymore. Instead it was loud sobs and pleads to stop. Once it hit the armrest, I let go, leaving it stuck there. Her hand was now laying in a pool of blood. I had another screwdriver on the table, so I went to get it. I repeated the same thing with her other hand. She had lost so much blood I was surprised she had not lost consciousness yet. I decided to let her bleed out. I left the restraints on her and left the hideout. I was covered in blood but it didn't matter, nobody knew where this place was and it was a little ways away from civilization. Nobody was home when i arrived, leaving me alone to clean up. The next day people knew she was missing. I kept to myself for the whole day as usual. Nobody would suspect me of all people. I was the quiet, harmless one in the school. The rest of my victims went by in a blur. I can only remember bits and pieces about them. There was another girl, and about three guys. That totaled to five victims. I don't regret any of it. I remember torturing the girls more than the guys. Guys are pigs, worthless beings, especially during teenage years. I wanted them all dead as soon as possible. I liked to torture the women, however. I liked to make them suffer for degrading other women. Once they found the first body it was all over. My first victim, the girl whose torture was the only one I could fully remember. I could never forget that if I tried. So now I sit here in this dark room, restrained to a metal chair. I was a wanted killer, I knew what my fate would be. The death penalty was how I was destined to die, even the voices told me that. Maybe, if I was not destined to die this way, I would have found a woman who shared my intelligence. Maybe I could have lived a life with her. Instead, I sit on this cold chair awaiting my death. It came sooner than I expected, the harsh zap that started in my head and raced down my body. I did not struggle, instead I embraced my fate, letting it take my life away. Now, there is only black as my mind fades away to the unknown void of death. In the end, if I was to be reborn, I would do it all again.


End file.
